Hetalia One-Shots and Stuff
by delisty
Summary: Hetalia shipping stuff. We do requests, one-shots, and stuff longer than one-shots (we don't actually know what the heck we're doing. We're sorry).


**Disclaimer:** Hetalia's characters do not belong to either one of the authors, but instead belongs to Hidekazu Himaruya.

Please review, follow and favorite! (Send us suggestions for other pairings or events you would like us to write!)

Hope you enjoy reading!

* * *

><p>"I'm home, Italy!" Germany called out. He heard a welcome back from Italy, but it sounded like it came from the living room instead of the normal greeting by the doorway.<p>

Germany walked into the livingroom to see Italy messily smearing red paint onto a canvas board. He didn't have to see what was on the canvas board to know what Italy was painting.

"I see that you were drawing while I was gone," German bluntly observed as he took off his green jacket and hung it on a chair. Italy nodded, backing away from the painting and hugged Germany.

"Welcome home!" He greeted, and then his eyes became big. "Oops," Italy whispered, slowly trying to get around Germany towards the door.

"What is it?" Germany asked with a little laugh. "If you keep walking away, it'll make me want to jump you," He teased, walking closer to Italy.

"Oh, that's a bad idea!"

"Why?"

"Your...shirt."

Germany blinked before taking long strides to the bathroom to inspect what damage Italy done this time. "Italy, what's this?" Both knew the answer to this question and the only good response in this situation was a nervous laugh.

"I'll buy you another white shirt." Italy tried to assure Germany, but that tank top was one of Germany's favorites since it was soft, showed off his muscles and **_was_** white.

"It's fine. Do you want to eat out today? I'm a little lazy to cook today."

Italy nodded and then zoned off to his La-La land. "Veee."

* * *

><p>"Isn't this France's restaurant?" Italy asked, staring at the French words. "Have you been here before?"<p>

"No. I guess it was just a coincidence," Germany replied back, looking away, not wanting Italy to know that he has been here before and actually enjoyed the food there. "Hopefully, France isn't here," he murmured.

Italy and Germany sat across from each other once they received their table. Classical music could be heard in the background; probably the doing of France to ensure a peaceful romance. What made the situation better was that there were also romantic, BLOOD-RED candles on the table. ROMANTIC.

"The food is good." Germany attempted to strike a conversation. Italy looked at Germany's mashed potatoes and nodded his head, agreeing with that statement. Italy couldn't find pasta on the menu so he sulkingly resorted to one of France's soups.

"How was your day while I was gone?" Germany started another conversation since their other one died.

"It was so much fun! I like drawing tomatoes, but your sausages suck, so that made my day less fun. But at least Germany's girls are cute!" Italy rambled on and on about how Germany's sausages suck but at least the girls there covered up that pain that he felt.

Germany kept his eyebrow from twitching because they had this conversation once. It was towards the beginning when they first met each other and also the last time that Germany tried to propose Italy. Then there's also the fact that they are dating and there's the airhead Italy talking about cute girls.

Twenty minutes later, Italy finally shut up about German girls. By the time that Italy finished his rambling, Germany was jealous and that jealousy felt like shit. Germany believed that he had all of Italy's attention now after that fangirling moment, but to make matters worse a waitress came to ask how their time was.

"Our times fine," Italy started, smiling flirtatiously at her. Germany scowled. "But you'd make my time so much better." Germany scowled more. The waitress giggled as Italy continued flirting with her.

Germany got up from the table and grumbled out, "I'm going to go get some fresh air."

"Okayy!" Italy called out and the waitress giggled once more. Germany huffed and then walked towards the exit of the restaurant. This was the second time that this has happened to him.

He wanted to propose to Italy and the last time he tried, Italy was flirting with another waitress, almost like what happened only a mere second ago. Germany took out the box and opened it, looking at the ring that sat in there. If Italy refused him the first time, then it's going to happen the second time.

"Oh there you are, Germany!" Italy called out to him. "What happened to you? One minute you're in front of me and then the next you're gone!"

"I'm still here, Italy." Germany said sadly, closing the box and reached to put it back in his pocket.

"What's that?" Italy asked, holding onto his arms and looking over directly at the box.

"Nothing," Germany said while trying to shake Italy off so he could put the box away, but Italy took it out of his hands and continued staring at it.

"Wait, wait don't open it!" Germany cried, but Italy ignored him and opened the box to see the ring.

"What's this?" Italy asked, staring at the ring in the box.

"Uh… a ring…?"

"I see."

"Well...you see...that was meant for you," Germany said, blushing like a freshman kohai. "I really liked you for a long time, but I'm not sure if you feel like that for me."

"What do you mean?" Italy asked, still staring down at the ring.

"Well...the first time that I proposed to you, the whole flirting with girls thing happened...and now it happened again. I'm just not sure if you're serious about the relationship...about us."

"I am," Italy whispered.

Germany didn't catch what Italy said at first. "What?"

Italy for once wore a serious face expression. "I am. Serious, I mean, about the relationship about us."

Germany reached over and cupped Italy's hand, gently taking back the box that held the ring. Then he slowly got down on his knee. Germany was still blushing at this point and smiled nervously. "Italy, would you be the pasta in my tomato sauce?"

Italy laughed at this cheesy reference to his favorite food. "Yes," He said, wrapping his arms around Germany and kissed him.

Little did Germany and Italy know, France stood by the window witnessing this whole scene unravel before him and the second that Italy and Germany kissed, he mentally celebrated the successful proposal. He had a wedding to prepare now.

* * *

><p>Authors' note: Thank you for reading the first chapter of Hetalia's oneshots! Reviews, especially constructive criticisms are recommended. If you want a specific pairing to happen in this story; feel free to make a review with your favorite pairing!<p>

Please review, follow, and favorite this story. ^-^

Conversations between the two authors: (These conversations happen when either one of us types a typo and the other points it out.)

Kristydahasian: GERMANY FELT SHIT.

Figureskatingfangirl: HE FELT THE SHIT. HE FELT ALL THE SHIT. ALL OF IT

Kristydahasian: And to make matters worse

Figureskatingfangirl: Matters wurst... WURSTTTTT

*glares*

Kristydahasian: The tomato ring

Figureskatingfangirl: No, not the tomato ring!

Kristydahasian: Fine. *Changes to ring, but then changes back to tomato.*


End file.
